


Grilled Cheese

by freshywritescrap (freshiewrites)



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Swapfell (Undertale), Angst, Hurt/Comfort, LV Flair Up, LV Issues, M/M, Sibling Incest, swapfellcest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-05
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-18 19:06:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29862681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freshiewrites/pseuds/freshywritescrap
Summary: Some days are bad days. At least Razz has Slim.
Relationships: Papyrus/Sans (Undertale)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 19





	Grilled Cheese

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BlueMeansStop](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueMeansStop/gifts).



> i hope this fulfills your Swellcest needs Blue :DDD
> 
> warning!! this is full on fontcest!!
> 
> enjoy :D

When Razz had bad days, he usually took them out on the criminals that pervaded the shadows of Snowdin. With how the Underground was set up, Snowdin was under his jurisdiction, as well as the forest that surrounded it. So it wasn’t entirely difficult to go out and find some miscreant that thought they could get away with a little bit of murder.

LV mongers were a plague, and one that Razz had full intention of expelling. 

Today, though… today the bad day was  _ so  _ bad that he hadn’t even left the house. The curtains were drawn, the lights off, all except the tiny bulb that sat over the stove. And there stood Razz, hunched over a pot of what smelled like mac and cheese, at least to Slim, standing in the doorway. 

He’d been watching ever since he’d woken up, of his own accord, the house dark and silent except for a low sound of bubbling water coming from downstairs. He’d followed the sound, dragging his feet just in case but it turned out to not really matter. Razz was in his head, fully lost to the world outside of himself, and Slim was sure that it was the reason Razz hadn’t even attempted to leave the house. In this state he’d be dead in minutes, if not seconds, depending on what assholes had plans for their attacks that day.

Fully and completely more safe to stay home. Slim agreed with that assessment wholeheartedly; there was little he could do to keep his brother safe when he got like this.

Or to keep others safe either. LV spikes were hell to deal with, Slim knew that first hand. 

Which was why Razz was vigorously stirring the pot of mac, the store bought noodles a little too soft for the harsh treatment. They were already a soupy mash of what used to be noodle, the powdered cheese utterly gone in the mess of milk and what was probably the last of their butter.

Really, Slim was just waiting it out. Any minute now his older brother would break, and Slim would be there to catch the pieces. It took a while, sometimes, for the logic to push through the haze of anger and sorrow, Slim always timing it by the pulses of his own soul.

It was torment, watching his brother work through the overwhelming emotions, the memories that threatened to pull him down to the level of the monsters he’d sworn to protect his people from. It hurt, so so badly, but Slim watched every second of it, until Razz’s skull finally dipped between his shoulders, the pained sound of a choked sob making Slim’s soul break.

But he was there, when Razz fell to his knees, catching him and bringing him close to his chest even as he tried to fight Slim off. It was half hearted at best, Slim’s intent soaking through as he cradled him to his chest. 

Razz was crying, silent sobs that wracked his entire body with shivers. Slim only held him through it, having laid on the couch and gently kissing Razz’s head, whispering soft nonsense that he would have been killed for, had anyone heard him. It didn’t matter, not in their home locked behind traps and intent filled spells, not when Razz finally stared up at him with tear filled sockets, nothing but affection there as he pulled Slim down for a thorough kiss.

Slim happily returned it, their tongues intertwining as Razz moaned into the contact, and well. It was a productive rest of the day, if Slim said so himself.

Later on, the two of them sacked out on the floor, the TV on and playing an old VHS tape of some human movie that Razz had found in the Dump, Razz asked him the question he always asked. 

“Why do you put up with me, Papyrus?”

Slim didn’t look at him, didn’t even turn his head. Instead, he gave the question the honest thought it deserved. 

There they were, sitting on the hard floor with nothing between them and the ground but a few pieces of wood and some shitty, thin carpet. The dog would be around soon to steal something out of the fridge and bite Slim’s bones a little, before he’d be off. Razz would get up and carefully drain the mushed mac, mourning the loss of the butter and milk before mixing in some of their precious cream and actual cheese to make a night of it.

Slim would put in another movie, one that Razz hated to love, and they’d sit and make fun of it while eating their mac, no matter how mushy it was. 

Why did Slim put up with Razz? His wonderful brother and partner, his soulmate, everything that mattered in this fucked up world? Why wouldn’t he, was the real question, but there was no way to fully explain his thought process to someone who could only look at themself with the eyes of hatred in the moment. 

So, he finally turned to Razz, face and tone serious as he said a simple, “Cause.” 

Razz gaped at him as he turned back to the TV, the huff of breath he gave off making Slim smile as he snuggled closer to him, despite his aggravated state.

What Slim wouldn’t give to live somewhere better. Somewhere Razz didn’t have to worry about losing it on the wrong person, somewhere Slim could sit and draw the wonders of nature around him without an attack in the back. 

Somewhere they could be safe.

“Well, I’m going to go fix the macaroni, would you care to join me?” Razz finally said, standing with aching joints as he leaned over Slim, something like pleading words in his eyes. 

Slim stared up at him, taking in every scar and crevasse in his skull. Every mark, both intentional and accidental, every sign that his brother had survived so far, and would likely be around for a long while yet.

“Sure.” he answered, and climbed to his feet.

There was nothing he’d rather do anyways.


End file.
